Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 47

Geoff was off to work early on Wednesday morning, after our trip back from the festival.

He seemed to be rejoicing in being back on his bike after his hand injury, and the sod was already muttering about LEL–London-Edinburgh-London, the UK equivalent of PBP. I was turning into a cycling marathon widow before I had even got married.

Smiles. Big ones. I was on a late shift, so I had time to pop into town and have the ring resized, by the remarkably simple process, it appeared, of sticking it onto a cone and hitting it with a hammer. Subtly done, but it was till rather worrying. It fitted, though, and I decided that I would wear it to work even though Geoff hadn’t actually slipped it onto my hand. I could always pretend that night, though.

Clean uniform in the saddle bags I went in early, so I could pop into the general office and catch up on any mail drops. I changed in my little room and swiped into the office, to come face to face with c-m-V. Her eyes narrowed.

“Stephanie, my office if you please”

What the hell now? She led the way in and stood by her desk.

“Shut the door.”

I did, wondering what I could possibly have done, and turned back to be greeted with a tremendously warm hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“There is no way I don’t get to be the first to congratulate you! Managers have their privileges. Now, I want all the gory details before you go anywhere else today, my girl!”

And so I told her.

When I entered the Channels, I had my jacket over my left arm, quite deliberately. I had called Sue, of course, but begged her to keep it a secret until I got back to work, and she immediately made an excuse to sneak off to the ladies’ with me. Yet again, I was smothered in affection and congratulation.

“Remember what we said last year at the pub? How we thought you were going off the rails? How wrong could we be?”

“You were dead right, Sue”

I flashed my ring. “This is the man who saved my life. I would never have had the courage to live without him, and I never WANT to live without him, so keep your eyes and your hands off, girl!”

Of course, there were a few tears, and some more hugs, and we wandered back out to the team, trying to be nonchalant. Dave, of course, was the first to spot it. He stayed very, very quiet, just walking over to me and doing his best to crush my ribs while he kissed me on the lips. I swear his eyes were moist, and it hit me again how far I had come n the last year. This was a man I had once regularly showered with, someone I had bled with, fought alongside and got very, very, disgustingly drunk with. The rest of the team took note of this, and he simply held my left hand out, and they mobbed me.

I have two families, you know.

Ali and Jackie asked the obvious questions, as in when, where, how for the engagement, followed by the same questions for the wedding. Junior started laughing.

“What’s up, Valentine?”

He hates his name.

“Just a thought, Steph, but just make sure the next time you punch a scrote you use your right!”

Fair point, fairly made, to quote c-m-V. As ever, it was Little John who caught the mood best, with a call for a piss-up. Not that he ever needs an excuse for one, but none the less it was something we had already thought of, and in a fortnight’s time we had a Friday early followed by a Saturday late, and Geoff and I had started preparations.

“Chaps, and fellow lumpy chaps, my place, a fortnight this Friday, seven o’clock, bring alcohol.”

There was another reason for celebration, one I wasn’t going to shout about even here. No, not the fact that I was now automatically including myself, and being included, as one of the lumpy chaps. Raj had made it clear that as far as he was concerned I had been living full time as me for a year, and I was now on the list for what he called the final plumber’s visit. All I had to do was wait my turn, and then the road was clear for the administrative change that would let me marry my beautiful man.

I did not give a flying fart about “long/short engagements”. We had been through such experiences, shared such joys and agonies, that neither of us, nor our family, could have any doubts whatsoever that we fitted together, and as soon as I or my surgeon could make that fit physical I wanted it official. I still had a dreadful moment every now and again when he was slightly late from work, and I worried about idiot drivers, and knew I had absolutely no claim if ever he was hurt. We could’ve gone for a civil partnership, but neither of us wanted that, we just wanted to be normal, to be a married, heterosexual couple. That sounds like a put down for gay couples; far from it. I am a straight woman, and Geoff, as he so sweetly tried to explain, is a straight man. Any partial or “special” union would undermine those facts in the eyes of the bigots who still surfaced every now and again.

I know these distinctions may seem artificial, or perhaps trivial, but the thing I had fought for so long was simply my womanhood. If none of that makes sense to you, or offends you, I am sorry, but it is our life and nobody else’s. Too many women like me have been vilified and treated as lepers for me to ever feel complacent, so let me state it simply.
I am a woman. That is a fact. Your opinion is not relevant.

Sorry for the rant, but it was a hang over from a session with Raj, who had as much as suggested the CP route. I nearly lost it with him before I saw his smile. Bastard, but a sweet one. After all, he signed me off that afternoon.

The party was a good one. The trio were down, and Kelly brought another young man. I caught him on his knees in the front room…

It never ceases to amaze me exactly how filthy your minds are. He was working through my CD collection, and when I came in he grinned and said “Great! I love Tri Yann! And you’ve got the Bonzos* as well!”

I decided that Kelly may have a keeper, but we needed to find out if he could play as well as listen. We Woodruffs have standards, you know. It turned out he was a flutist. Damn. We needed some bottom to the mix. That trombonist was only about forty…..if we waited a few years…..

Nobody got REALLY drunk, but there were some serious declarations of Manly Lurve and Sisterly Affection from both of my families, and I caught Albert smiling happily.

“Do you know how many Public Order offences this lot would be liable for in a pub? Anyway, we need to chat. I hear I am to give you away, and that will mean a speech. Who is Geoff having as best man?”

To my astonishment, and immense gratification, Geoff had decided that Dave would stand beside him at the wedding. When I asked him why, he had simply said that apart from himself and Bill he couldn’t think of any man who loved me more.

Have I mentioned recently how much this man means to me? I pushed Dave and Albert into a corner, and left them to reminisce, though I did worry a little when I caught the words “When her mother…”

Around eleven o’clock, just as people were starting to get even sillier than normal, the bell rang. I opened the door to find Sally standing there looking pale faced and more than a little grim. She handed me a bottle.

“I know I’m late, but things have happened. We really need to talk”

I took her to the kitchen, and she burst into tears.

*The Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band. G*ogle them. “Do you like soul music?”